Wednesday, July 26, 2017

I'm almost done with that sequel in my "terrible trilogy for funsies." Maybe five or six more chapters to go. So I'll be working on that to try to finish it before the new semester hits. I've also been having more moments where I'm just thinking up of scenes for my future project, so I've been just writing them out for my eyes only for the time being. Right now I have maybe two ideas "queued up" for me to work on. For some reason, typing out a 3000-word chapter will take me one week; but a 1000-word scene will take me maybe thirty minutes to an hour or so. Curious, that.

How do I feel about the process?

I'm both excited and sad that I'm finishing up my sequel. Excited, because it's so bad that while I'm writing it I just keep thinking, "I can do so much better, why do I even try with this thing?" Sad... well... I put a lot of work into it, had fun while writing it, interacting with the small audience I've gathered for it, and I've developed a fondness to its weirdness like it's that angelfish my family had that liked to eat its own eggs off the tank wall. (Yes, she did that. Yes, it was gross.) I'm a bit sad that it's going to end soon. However, I am also relieved that in a few weeks I can finally take a break from the trilogy and recuperate my brain. For some reason writing one chapter a week for that thing takes a lot out of me.

The scene-things, on the other hand, are a completely different story. I can finish those things in one sitting no problem. This might be a symptom where I'm growing tired of my longer project, or that the plot that I'm using these scenes to help me plan is actually well thought out.

Or it might just be that the plot is cathartic since it's dealing with much darker themes than my seemingly more light-hearted trilogy plans, which is saying something because that trilogy is lacking on the restraints for character deaths. Either way, I'm enjoying it, even if life is kinda mirroring what I'm writing at the moment.

Which brings me up to another thing that I find a bit amusing. It's either just me being really paranoid or hyper-analytical where my brain is perceiving something that isn't there or it's mere coincidence, but whenever I'm writing something, no matter how fictional it is, real life seems to reflect it especially if I'm thinking really hard about how I want the events to play out in a scene.

Like when a character's brother died, and I was trying to figure out how to write it since I've never experienced a similar loss or witnessed firsthand how people would react. A few days later my mom received word that her youngest brother passed away. Terrible, but at the same time while I was grieving for my uncle, I turned to writing to help me out, and the events that played out helped me write that scene with no issues.

Or when I was trying to figure out how to work the "budding romance" angle the readers begged me to try to work in, and how I was telling them that I have no idea how to write it out since never have I ever had anyone ever shown interest in me like that before, nor vice versa. Then boom, that happened, and it made both parties extremely flustered and awkward; and it proved to be very useful for helping me out with writing the romantic subplot. (Oh gosh, you know who you are, and if you're reading this I'm super sorry that I'm extremely aromantic otherwise and I'm glad you and I are finally on the same page.)

And other such things like that. It's either I'm psychic, or paranoid, or maybe cursed with unexplainable ways of beating writer's block (but I'm pretty sure just over-thinking). I'm not superstitious, but according to Philippine wives' tales, my birthmark suggests that I'm prone to unlucky things like curses; it's hard for those things not to come to mind when I can't think of a decent explanation as I'm dancing between awake and sleep in the middle of the night.

It does kinda get me a bit scared to write some scenes I've got planned in the future. Because what if?

Mood-wise, I haven't gotten any better compared to last week, but at least I haven't gotten any worse.

What am I reading?

My list is thankfully still the same as last time. Whoo boy, my brain just isn't settling enough for the attention required to read a few paragraphs.

What else am I doing?

So this whole week I'm visiting some of the exhibits offered in the local museums. On Monday, I went to the California Science Center and got to see the Endeavour. My mom found it interesting, but she didn't understand why I kept bouncing on my feet as I stood in the same room as it. I dunno. I like rockets, I guess?

And earlier today, I went to the Ronald Reagan Library (for the umpteenth time, but I'm not complaining) and got to see some of the new additions that I didn't get to see since the last time I went and got to look at the temporary Titanic exhibit they've got there for the time being.

Not sure where I'm going to go next. Later in the week I'll compile some of the pictures I've taken, which are very few; I certainly don't belong in the "selfie generation" and their obsession with pictures, that's for sure.

I'm also still searching for a part-time job. Sadly, it's just rejection after rejection since my school schedule isn't going to work out it seems. It's partially the reason why my mood's pretty low for the past few weeks. But I'll keep searching. I'll get one, one day. Better things can come if I'm just patient.

I have the feeling that the amount of meh I give about everything is proportional to how many words I'll manage to write in a week. While that is a bit worrying, I will admit that whenever I manage to finish a small goal (such as finishing a chapter), it fills me with enough euphoria to continue writing. I guess that, even when I'm at my lowest, I still manage to find a way to write; whether it is just as a personal journal entry or something I intend to publish anonymously to the public, it all means the same to me in the end.

It's come to a point that, while family might not support the idea of being an author, writing itself is a form of therapy that they won't dissuade me from doing. One day, I might show them differently with the former. The latter, however, is pretty much one of the constants that I've had in life. I don't know, writing is just something I've always done.

What am I reading?

Same list as last week. I really hope that it doesn't expand any time soon because I'm so behind.

What else am I doing?

So there was that coloring and coffee thing (minus the coffee for me since caffeine can kill me) which went down a turn that I recounted in a post earlier this week. Now, I pride myself on having a pretty vivid imagination. However, said imagination does not guarantee anything creative nor creativity itself, as portrayed in that picture.

Monday, July 17, 2017

...that's what Sarah and Shaundee told me to do while coloring last Friday.

Shaundee, being the one with more artistic training, colored Mary Shelley in a more straight-forward style. Sarah, on the other hand, inadvertently emphasized the "shell" in SHELLey by transforming the writer of Frankenstein (or The Modern Prometheus) into a mermaid.

And then there was me.

To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing, so when I commented that her hair looked like doughnuts instead of the intended "modern ombre blonde" I was going for, I just rolled with it and it all went downhill from there.

I guess I'm working on a lot of things. Those scene things are coming up more often lately, though I'm trying not to let it detract from my main project right now. Not included in the above word count is a lot of the planning of my next main project.

How do I feel about the process?

Still feeling meh from last week, but as it shows, my ability to write out words hasn't been affected, so that's a plus. I also posted a bit of The Blighted Earth on a different website, just for fun and to see if people might be interested. So far, nothing, but that's fine by me. Not really much extra work on my part. I think that posting it under a completely different anonymous identity that doesn't have the audience my other one has might have a part in it, but who knows. It's like starting new, but without being too secretive about it this time. Oh gosh, the terrible writing associated with my first anonymous "writing persona." None shall ever know it's me. Never.

Or maybe people will find out. People are good detectives on the internet if they want to be, after all. (If that happens: I swear! All of it was because I was an angsty teenager! I'm not like that now, I promise!)

What am I reading?

Still the same books as last week.

What else am I doing?

Trying to find a part-time job that fits into my upcoming school schedule. I'm not hopeful about that, to be honest.

Going to continue with that writing-a-novel-for-fun thing. So far, I'm at the point where I'm pretty sure what the end's going to be and how many more chapters it will last. I'm thinking at around chapter 20 or 21 is going to be the ending, then I can work on the last in the trilogy. After that, I'm freeeeeeee. At least until I decide to punish myself with my next epic-length story that will take me a few years to complete. Gosh, why do I do this to myself?

(Because it's fun, Jodee. You know this.)

While I'm not working on that, I'm planning out some of the scenes and details of said epic-length-novel-because-I-hate-myself plot, but I'm going to be a bit more serious about it. While the one I'm working on now isn't complete garbage, it's still fitting of being tossed into a landfill. It's Deus ex machina galore, questionable character motivations, and fever-dream inspired subplots. At this point, I'm having fun with it, but the next project I'm actually going to try this time. It's largely in the planning stages right now, and I'm trying to get a feel for whether to write it in third- or first-person. I'm leaning towards third-person.

That project should keep me relatively preoccupied for the next three years. Or less, depending on how well I do the planning beforehand.

I'm also taking part of Camp NaNoWriMo this July, joining in on a cabin with Sarah Covault like last time. Just saying if anyone's reading this and wants to join in, there's still spots available!

My project is pretty much the combined word count of all the other things I'm working on this month. Since my attention is spread pretty thinly between projects, I thought it would be prudent to not have a dedicated NaNoWriMo project this month.

In regards to the poem I wrote a bit earlier in the week, well... I just remember taking a shower and then a few of the lines came to me. And because of how my brain works, they kept repeating themselves and in order for me to be free of them was to write it down.

Also, my depression decided to kick me around really hard since last week. (Being sick and bedridden didn't help matters.) I just felt in the mood for darker poetry for once.

How do I feel about the process?

Meh. Though that's pretty much how I feel about everything lately.

Wake up? Meh. Eat? Meh. Shower? Meh. Take medicine so my sickness would go away faster? Meh. Go outside? Meh. Lay down on a comfortable mattress? Meh. (Seriously, I had a weird moment where I just went into my dark closet and curled into a ball on the hardwood floor. I wasn't sad or anything, I just felt like it was the thing to do, for some reason.)

Write? Meh.

Thankfully, the meh-ness didn't get me really bad, since I was able to type out a few things before it got worse and started thinking, "Please, someone just kill me right now, I swear."

Though I think a bit of that sentiment kinda leaked into my "Jade" poem. Whoops.

What am I reading?

Still have a lot of reading to do, but haven't made any progress in any of them because reading just got frustrating to me. And so, same list as last week, though my group finished reading The Magician's Nephew and started reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

What else am I doing?

I edited another thing just for my group's enjoyment (since they think I'm really good at playing and that I can never die. Hahaha, joke's on them.) Still really rusty from my high-school video-production days, and I'm seriously missing using Final Cut Pro, but iMovie at least had some ability to cut things together.

I'm also going to be meeting Sarah, Shaundee, and Taunya to do some coloring and coffee (or tea/ice-drink thing in my case) on Friday as well as have a get-together potluck with my friends from high school now that they've all graduated from universities.

Monday, July 3, 2017

The monster's name was Jade,
after the green-hued eyes she possessed.
She spoke like thunder of a summer storm
or like a costal breeze as a sweet caress.
She accepted my blood as payment
to ensure my rage has died.
Accepted, I thought she'd help me–
instead she killed me inside.

I broke free from Jade's steel-cold chains
that bound my feet and hands.
They left marks and scars from where they touched,
and yet I failed to understand
I'd never free myself from her for as long as I live,
for her call is much too great.
When I hurt I crave that pain,
that payment I used to hate.